


This Is Fear

by RakshaTheDemon



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, Frozen (2013)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-27 10:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13879173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RakshaTheDemon/pseuds/RakshaTheDemon
Summary: A concept piece written when I was playing around with the idea of a Frozen/Animorphs crossover, about how the sisters deal with combat--and what happens when things go very, very wrong.The violence here is pretty typical for Animorphs, which is to say that there is A Lot Of It.Originally posted on tumblr.





	This Is Fear

In combat, Anna is the aggressive one.  She charges forward, howling her battle cry, striking her first foe before the enemies have time to process what’s happening.  She can’t hit as hard as Rachel’s bear or Jake’s tiger, but she makes every blow count just the same.  Her jaws tear at hamstrings so the enemy can’t run and crush hands so they can’t shoot.  And she’s fast and light, dancing between the blows that rain towards her.  

Elsa is more restrained.  When she can, she prefers to stalk the shadows, striking her blows when the opportunity arises.  A felled Taxxon here, a Hork-Bajir there, slowly turning the tide of the fight.  Tobias gives her support from above, pointing out distracted targets that she can easily dispatch.  When she hits, it’s hard and fast and efficient.  Often she strikes only with her paws.  A solid blow to the back of the head is usually enough, and then she doesn’t have to see the blood and be reminded of what she’s doing.

And all the while she’s keeping one eye on Anna.  She watches the blur of red fur and white teeth that darts between enemies, narrowly avoiding blow after blow.  She resists the urge to ask over and over if she’s okay.  Anna needs to concentrate, to focus on the deadly dance she’s performing.  Elsa cannot be a distraction.  So she watches, and she tells Tobias to watch, and she contents herself with listening for Anna’s intermittent shouts of triumph that confirm everything is okay.

And then, all at once, everything is  _not_  okay.

The pained howl fills her ears as the anguished scream invades her mind.  It happens impossibly fast, Anna’s dance stopped cold by the blade of a Hork-Bajir.  She crumples.  The way her body lands, it isn't  _natural_ , and there’s red seeping out beneath her.  

The Hork-Bajir raises his foot to ensure the job is finished.  But Elsa is on top of him, her jaws closing around his throat as she knocks him to the ground.  He struggles beneath her, and somewhere far off she can feel blades digging into her fur.  She twists her head and feels something in his neck  _snap_.  He goes limp, but there are others. 

Elsa isn’t restrained.  She isn’t efficient.  She is a whirlwind of violence.  She is claws and teeth, lashing at everything that comes too close.  Alien blood coats her claws and her fur.  It fills her nostrils and drips from her jaw.  She tastes it on her tongue, and it’s thick and overwhelming and sickly sweet.  But beneath it she can smell the copper, can  _taste_  it.  

There’s shouting in her ears and in her head, but none of it makes sense.  She has to protect Anna.  Has to keep the battle away from her, lest she be trampled underfoot.  Her teeth and claws flash like lightning.  She’s a storm.  A circle of death surrounding Anna.  

Something big and black moves in the corner of her eye.  She spins, coiled to leap and crush it’s bones in her jaws.  Only at the last second do the cries of < _It’s me!_ > register, and she stops short.  Marco’s gorilla arms gingerly pick Anna off the floor, and as he does Elsa can see just how bad it is.  Her stomach is ripped open, and one of her legs is barely attached anymore.  

Elsa realizes she can’t hear Anna’s thoughts.

Jake is giving orders.  In her haze it takes Elsa a moment to process them.  He’s organizing a retreat.  They need to get Anna away so she can morph back.

Kristoff charges in front, clearing the path.  Rachel and Jake take the sides, defending against anything that gets too close.  Cassie has the rear, keeping enemies at bay and then sprinting back to the group.  Overhead Tobias guides them, warning of coming blows.

And Elsa is everywhere.  She’s darting from one alien to the next, unable to think clearly enough to stay in a formation.  The constant fighting keeps her occupied.  It keeps her  _sane_ , blocking out the thoughts that would otherwise consume her.  If she just keeps fighting, keeps  _protecting_ , everything will be okay.  Anna will be okay.  

And then there’s nothing left to fight.  They’re outside, and the sun is far too bright, and the air is too warm.  Everything seems too  _normal_  out here, but Elsa can still taste the sickly sweet alien blood.  And the stench of copper is overwhelming.

Marco sets Anna down on the ground, and something inside Elsa  _seethes_.  He’s laying her on the dirt and the pine needles, and it suddenly feels too intimate.  Anna loves the woods.  This is  _her_  place, the rest of them shouldn't  _be_  here.  Suddenly Marco’s hands on Anna are a violation.  Elsa hisses and growls, because she’s forgotten how to speak.  Even the thought-speech is beyond her.  She wants them  _away_.  This isn’t right.  Nothing about this is right.  There’s too many people around Anna, and it doesn’t feel  _safe_ , and she’s snarling and her jaws are snapping.

Something big and heavy knocks her to the ground.  Rachel is on top of her, still in grizzly form, pinning her down so she can’t strike at the others.  She struggles and hisses, but she can’t move.  And from where she’s laying she can see Anna, still a dhole–why hasn’t she morphed?  And her ribs are barely moving, and there’s too much blood beneath her.  And Elsa is wailing beneath the mass of fur and muscle holding her down.  

And then slowly, painfully slowly, Anna begins to change.  Her severed limb knits itself back into place.  The ripped flesh of her stomach closes, becoming whole again.  Red fur gives way to pale skin and green spandex.  And then Anna is sitting up, and she’s breathing heavily but she's  _moving_ and  _talking._

Rachel moves, and as soon as she’s free of the weight Elsa is at her sister’s side.  She’s searching her abdomen and pawing at her limbs, because even though she can see Anna sitting up and smiling the smell of copper is still in her nose, and she has to be sure.  Her actions are a little too enthusiastic and she knocks Anna back to the ground.  Her sister is laughing, wrapping her arms around Elsa’s fur.

“That  _tickles_!”

And Elsa is finally content that everything is okay.  She pulls back, returning to human form.  As soon as she does Anna’s arms are around her, squeezing until her ribs feel like they’re going to break.  Elsa returns the favor, holding her sister as close as she can.  She shakes, and there’s a sob, and she doesn’t know if it’s from her or Anna.  But it doesn’t matter, because Anna is safe and here and whole.  

It’s a long time before they let go of one another, and longer still before Elsa is willing to move from Anna’s side.  They sit on the dirty ground for ages, leaning against one another.  And when it finally comes time to go back home, back to the isolation and the pretending, it’s only reluctantly that they let go of one another.

That night, Elsa dreams of severed limbs and blood in her mouth and a red dog lying broken on the floor.  When she wakes the room is coated with snow and there’s ice over the windows.  But then there’s a knock at the door, and she knows everything will be okay.


End file.
